


with a little luck, we can help it out, we can make this whole damn thing work out (with a little love, we can lay it down, can't you feel the town exploding?)

by lovelyflowersinherhair



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, For Want of a Nail, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Mentioned Fred Andrews, Not Canon Compliant, Past Domestic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/pseuds/lovelyflowersinherhair
Summary: “You turned me away.”“I had to. You think Hal was going to let you stick around? You think that I had a choice? You saw the bruises on my neck, Charles. You know what he was doing to me that day, after I let you into the house, and I tried to explain to you why you had to leave, offered you money, even. You didn’t believe me. You thought that Hal would be happy to have you.”“I’m your son--”“Tell that to my reconstructed nose,” she spat. “You can do whatever the hell you want to Polly, to the Farm, you can join up yourself if you want. If you think that for one second I’m going to let you coerce me into your little plan to save the damn world, you are sorely mistaken. You don’t have any right to say a damn thing to me. How dare you create a plan that was supposed to involve me without telling me a damn thing? I’m not selling my house and moving in here. I’m not leaving Elizabeth to flounder, feeling alone, anymore. I am done having men tell me that they have my best interests in mind.” She shook her head. “It was nice seeing you, Charles.”“That’s all you have to say?”“I can’t do this."
Relationships: Alice Cooper/FP Jones II, Archie Andrews/Josie McCoy, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Fangs Fogarty & Kevin Keller, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Veronica Lodge/Reggie Mantle
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Paul McCartney and Wings/ 'With a Little Luck' (Linda McCartney and Paul McCartney). Song can be found on the LP entitled 'Wings Greatest'. I do not own Riverdale or the Wings discography. 
> 
> Please note that this fic is AU. It does contain Fred as a character until a certain point as yet to be determined. I will lead off that to be determined chapter with a warning. There are mentions of domestic violence/spousal abuse/and other forms of abuse in this story. I do not think it will be depicted but rather spoken about and alluded to. If it is depicted I will warn in beginning author's notes. Timeline wise, the story breaks away from canon after Alice's baptism gone wrong. 
> 
> Charles will be featured in this story (to what capacity I'm not sure yet) and he is not 'evil', but rather a person who is deeply flawed. Alice will NOT be going undercover with him because even though I like having him on the show as a character the fact that she was undercover at his request does make me somewhat uncomfortable.

“I decided that you would help us,” the suited man informed Alice, and she barely resisted rolling her eyes, completely unamused about the fact that her long-lost biological son thought he could just waltz back into her life and claim that she was going to fall over herself with joy and become his little pet informant. “I mean, you want to leave, right? You’d be undercover.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, her voice still hoarse from her little adventures in the wonderful world of drowning. “I’ve been expelled from the Farm. It’s not happening.”

“You could repent--”   
  


“I said no, Charles.” She cleared her throat. “Having to be resuscitated is not an experience that I am keen to repeat, especially given that it was at the hands of my own daughter.” 

“I’m sure that she didn’t mean it.”

Alice didn’t bother dignifying that comment with a response. “If you think for one moment that you can just waltz in here and pull the ‘son’ card and get me to do tricks for you like a damn pony, you have another thing coming.”

“You didn’t even let me finish my explanation!”

Alice bit back a sigh and she contemplated the man in front of her, thoroughly bored out of her mind. There was nothing more tedious than life at the Farm, and she was starting to regret her decision to go along with Polly’s whims and accompany her there. The incense that filled the Sisters of Quiet Mercy only served to give her a nagging headache, and the raw milk that she’d forced down under Edgar’s watchful eye had only served to aggravate her lactose intolerance, and that was the least of the Farm’s issues. The truth was that Alice had long since grown disenamored of the Farm, mainly due to the fact that her own daughter had tried to drown her, and she was  _ equally _ disenamored of the fact that she was expected to continue on with her ridiculous...brainwashing, or whatever she was affecting the appearance of, just at the beck and call of someone who  _ claimed _ to be her son. 

Sure. Those DNA tests had matched. But Alice was tired. She had spent her entire life being told what to do by men, starting with having to marry Hal when she was barely sixteen, shoved into a wedding dress and forced to stand in front of everyone in the chapel while she pretended that she wasn’t still recovering from a childbirth that she wasn’t allowed to acknowledge, or mention, and continuing through with the disaster that had been Chic, and ending up here. She hadn’t even agreed to help him. He had just assumed. 

“Alice, I need--”

“What?” Alice demanded, her tone bitter. “You think that I’m just some pawn? That you can throw the fact that I was  _ forced _ to give you up for adoption and that they just  _ left  _ you in that hell hole against me? To try to get me to do your bidding?” 

“It would only be for a few months,” he protested. “Don’t you care about helping your daughter?”

Alice peered at him over the rims of her glasses, and her lips pursed. 

“Don’t you dare manipulate me,” she told him. “You think that I care what happens to Polly? She’s helped ruin my life, because ruining her own wasn’t enough. She hoodwinked me into coming here and abandoning her sister in the process, and she repaid me by trying to have me drowned. I am not being another man’s pawn, Charles. Not for Polly’s sake, and not for yours. Not after the fact that your deliberate misinterpretation of what happened that day you came to my house almost got me and Elizabeth killed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone smooth, which did nothing to soothe Alice, given that he couldn’t look her in the eyes, and the fact that his smooth tone bore more of a resemblance to Hal’s, than to FP’s. “You turned me away.”

“I had to. You think Hal was going to let you stick around? You think that I had a choice? You saw the bruises on my neck, Charles. You  _ know _ what he was doing to me that day, after I let you into the house, and I tried to explain to you why you had to leave, offered you money, even. You didn’t believe me. You thought that Hal would be happy to have you.”

“I’m your son--”   
  
“Tell that to my reconstructed nose,” she spat. “You can do whatever the hell you want to Polly, to the Farm, you can join up yourself if you want. If you think that for one second I’m going to let you coerce me into your little plan to save the damn world, you are sorely mistaken. You don’t have any right to say a damn thing to me. How dare you create a plan that was supposed to involve me without telling me a damn thing? I’m  _ not _ selling my house and moving in here. I’m  _ not _ leaving Elizabeth to flounder, feeling alone, anymore. I am done having  _ men  _ tell me that they have my best interests in mind.” She shook her head. “It was nice seeing you, Charles.”

“That’s all you have to say?” 

“I can’t do this,” she said flatly. “I’m sorry that I had to give you up for adoption. It’s something that I regret every day of my life.” She let out a sigh. “I can’t keep beating myself up over it. You’re an adult. You making me help you with this won’t make you any less of one. And we couldn’t work together. I’m your biological mother. It would be a conflict of interest.” She drew in a shallow breath. “Your little roommate? Chic?”

“My ex-boyfriend,” Charles corrected. 

“Whatever. He told me that you were dead. I can’t -- I’m glad you’re not dead, Charles, but this is not an appropriate thing to ask me to do. You’re playing with people’s lives.” 

“So, what,” Charles said. “You’re just going to go back to your perfect life?”   
  


“Need I remind you that you  _ saw _ my husband get physical with me in your presence? How dare you say that I have a perfect life? I don’t have a perfect life. I am going home, though. I only came back to this godforsaken place to get the last of my things.” Alice felt like she needed a stiff drink. “Goodbye, Charles. Perhaps I will encourage your presence if you don’t persist in trying to a manipulative bastard.” 

Alice hadn’t wanted to be cruel to Charles, but she was thoroughly unamused by the prospect of spending more time at the Farm, which had long outlasted its limited usefulness, and had merely served to make her seem like a rather blatant laughingstock. Harold had had to essentially sue her to get Elizabeth’s money back, which was enough of a wake up call by itself, and Polly had seen fit to drown her, and seemed rather disappointed that Elizabeth had managed to revive her and that she had been mostly set back to rights. Edgar telling her that she had been banished from the Farm due to Elizabeth’s involvement at her baptism had frankly been a relief. There was no way that she was going to allow herself to ruin it. 

She slipped into her car and readied herself to drive away, barely paying the truck that had pulled up beside her any mind. What did she care about some visitor to the Farm? She had better things to worry about, like managing to return to Elizabeth and grovel for forgiveness. 

“See?” Alice heard a familiar voice say, and she struggled to place where she knew the people in the truck from. “I told you it was okay, Fangs. Betty’s mother goes here. Polly and Evelyn say that it’s a place for us to heal.” 

“But Betty said it was a cult!”

Alice peered in the direction of the voices, her hackles having begun to rise at the mention of her daughter’s name, and she focused her gaze on Elizabeth’s idiot friend, and FP’s idiot Serpent. Was it perhaps unkind to call Fangs and Kevin idiotic? Alice could admit that this was a possibility. But. The shoe appeared to fit. 

She climbed out of her car and rapped on the window, which the Serpent had the sense to roll down for her. “What are the two of you doing here?” Alice’s tone could have cut glass. “Care to enlighten me?”

“It’s our blood test day,” Fangs told her. “Kevin said it was important for everyone to get tested so we could give Evelyn our kidneys!”

“Fangs!” Kevin chastised. “He’s only joking, Mrs. Cooper.” 

Alice elected to let Mrs. Cooper slide, for the sake of not aggravating her headache further than it already was. She had bigger fish to fry. 

“No I’m not. Polly said it would be an honor to be chosen.” 

“Polly told you that?” Alice asked him, her gaze innocent. “Fangs, Polly thinks that you’re scum. Don’t you remember who her father is? I think she even wrote those horrible things on Elizabeth’s locker after FP got arrested. She’s manipulating you.” 

Leaving Fangs to ponder that statement, she fixed her gaze at Kevin. “As for you, does your father know that you’re planning on donating your  _ kidney _ to a complete stranger? And don’t you dare say that my having the stupidity to join these insanity gives you free reign. I’m an adult, Kevin. You’re not.”

“Why would I tell my dad?” Kevin asked. “It’s not any of his concern.”

“I think that it’s best that you two come with me,” Alice said. “Leave the truck here, I’m sure that someone will come back for it. I am not letting either of you donate a  _ kidney _ or any other organ to someone whom you barely know.” She leveled them with a glare. “Why on earth would the two of you think that was in any way a good idea?”

“I--”

“Get in the car, Keller,” she hissed. “You can tell me on our way back to Riverdale.” 

The Fogarty boy at least had the sense to do as he’d been told, Alice thought to herself, noting that Fangs had been all too willing to seat himself in the backseat while she’d been glaring compliance into Kevin, who had climbed in beside him, grumbling all the while. Alice herself was unamused, and grateful that she’d intercepted the two dimwitted teenagers before Charles did. Given her eldest child’s seeming lack of sense, she feared he would have asked them to be his voice on the inside. 

She sent an extremely blunt text to both Tom and FP, not having the energy to try to track down Fangs’ parents while most likely driving away from her daughter for the last time. Polly hadn’t even been willing to say goodbye to her, nor had she let her say goodbye to the twins. That hurt Alice the most. 

“She told me that I would be able to see Midge again,” Fangs said, his confession interrupting both the silence of the car and Alice’s brooding. “Evelyn. All I had to do was let her take my kidney.” 

Alice sighed. “Fangs. Midge is dead. I don’t even want to begin to fathom what Evelyn might have been implying with that statement.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “What, pray tell, caused you to think this was wise, Kevin?”   
  


Kevin shrugged. “She told me I’d have my pick of men.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Well, Moose is gone,” he said. “What else was I meant to do?”

“Maybe not be so reckless?” Alice suggested. “Honestly, Kevin. Cruising Fox Forest for men while a serial killer was on the loose? Catfishing a 25 year old and wanting to  _ actually _ date him? Trying to forcefully get Moose out of the closest when he was scared of his father’s reaction? Honestly, it’s like you try to outdo yourself every time, and frankly it’s exhausting. Even Archibald has the sense to avoid the Farm, and we are speaking about a child who joined the Mafia, apparently by accident!” 

“I wasn’t being reckless! What about you?”

“I made a mistake,” Alice said. “I’m not going to let you two do the same.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred glanced at the backseat of her car again before he took stock of the look on her face and took his leave, and Alice wrenched the door of the car open with a scowl. “What was that about?” Fangs dared to ask. “Did he want more fizzle rocks?” 
> 
> “What?” Alice demanded. “Are you talking about? That’s Fred Andrews.”
> 
> “I know,” he said, nodding eagerly. “He’s one of my clients.” 
> 
> Alice drew in a deep breath. The last thing anyone needed was for the lecture that she felt building to cause everyone on the street to stare at her, and sell stories about how the Black Hood’s near-victim had snapped on two teenagers and the moron who lived next door. 
> 
> “Get out of the car, and into my house,” she told him. “You too, Kevin.”

“Aren’t you going to say anything to me?” The girl demanded, and he eyed the slingshot she held in her hand with wary eyes, before his gaze dropped to the fact that she had the two army bags that her harridan of her mother had  _ stolen _ from him (along with their daughter) when she’d skipped town years ago. “Welcome home, Jellybean, maybe?” 

“I thought that you went by JB,” he muttered, as he scrubbed his hand across his jaw. “Wait, what do you mean, welcome home?” 

“That’s what Gladys wanted me to go by,” Jellybean informed him. “No one wants to buy drugs off someone named Jellybean. I mean. Would you? They thought Jellybean was a baby.” She shrugged her shoulders. “She got arrested. Those people she was working with turned her into the Feds. Grandma and Grandpa decided that they ‘didn’t want me‘, and they sent me here. Turns out that she ‘kidnapped’ me.” 

FP desperately tried to recover his power of speech, mainly to spare himself the look of derision on his daughter’s face, and not out of any desire to begin to process the bombs Jellybean had decided to drop on him with barely a hello. 

“Your mother’s been arrested?” He settled on the question that was least offensive to him. What did he care that Gladys had been arrested for? He was just glad that he’d started the process of divorcing her when he’d seen the situation she’d involved herself in. “What for?” 

“You mean you don’t know?” Jellybean asked, as she shouldered past him to enter the trailer, her braids bouncing as she threw her luggage on the floor by his television. “She’s in deep, Dad, and with the wrong people. Hiram Lodge sold her out when she didn’t let Penny kill Archie.”

“What?” 

“He figured that Jughead and Archie would give up and come to see us,” she continued. “They did. Penny was waiting. I slingshot her. Mom said that she’d killed her, but she was just bullshitting us. I guess to make Archie think he’d be okay if he went to Canada? I don’t really know. Can I spend the night?” 

“You don’t have to ask, Jelly,” FP told her. “You’re my daughter. I want you to stay.” 

“Even though you’re the Sheriff now?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t blame you for what your mother made you do,” he told her. “You’re my daughter. You can’t help that she’s fucked up. There’s something wrong with her, and that’s on her, not you.”

“Were you going somewhere?” Jellybean questioned. “You have your coat on.” 

FP wanted to ignore the text from Alice, but she had become slightly unhinged since Hal had been arrested, and he didn’t dare risk sending her back into the bosom of the farm, or have his decision to ignore her be the cause of poor Fangs meeting an unfortunate fate in a mysterious way, so he suspected that he was going to have to bring Jellybean along with him to Alice’s house. 

Even though FP thought that Jellybean was perfectly capable of staying that the trailer by herself, he knew that Alice would probably kill him (and give him a rather lengthy lecture in the process), and it did seem mean to abandon the girl to deal with Fangs after she had travelled -- apparently on her own -- to get back home. 

“Yeah, I have to go pick up Fangs,” he told her. “His mom isn’t doing very well, and I think that he’s been causing trouble on the Northside again.” 

“So you want me to stay here?” 

He shook his head. “Uh, no, Jelly. I thought maybe you’d want to come with me. I mean, do you want to stay here?” 

“I want to go with you,” she said. “I like the Northside.” 

“You remember the Northside?” FP asked, as he informed Alice that he was on his way, but would be bringing someone along with him. “From before you left?” 

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I remember Uncle Fred, and Archie, and Juggie’s friend Betty’s mom. She used to make us cookies!”

“Yeah, well, maybe there will be some cookies there when we get there today,” he offered. “You never know.” 

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Maybe we should see how mad she is at Fangs before we ask.”

“You’re probably right,” FP said, and he chuckled. “You’re a smart kid, Jelly.” 

* * *

“Thank you for checking out the house for me, Fred,” Alice said to her nextdoor neighbor, who was waiting on her front steps for her when she pulled up and into her driveway with the two juvenile delinquents who were still sitting in her backseat. The drive home had been trying. “What’s the verdict?” 

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” he told her, his ball cap in his hand. “You were being bugged. I’m just not sure if you were being bugged because of the farm, or if it was a holdover from when Hal was still living here. Some of the things that we found...they were kind of old, Alice.” 

“You got rid of them?”

“Of course I did,” he said. “I told you that we would.” 

“And is the furniture that I ordered to be placed in my master suite assembled?” 

Fred nodded. “Yes, Alice. I removed all of the old pieces.” 

“Thank you, Fred,” she said, and she heard her own exhaustion written in her tone. “How much do I owe you?”

“Alice, we’re friends,” he protested. “Why would I make my friends pay for things?” 

“Fred, you’re friendly with nearly the entire town. If you ran your business that way, how would anything get paid for? Let me pay what I owe you,” she insisted, and she pulled her checkbook out of her purse. “I already have a headache,” she muttered. “I do not wish to add to it trying to convince you that you are worth money.” 

“I’ve got something that could help you with that,” he offered. 

Alice arched a brow. “What do you mean? I don’t need you to give me your aspirin, Fred. I have some in the medicine cabinet.”

“I don’t mean aspirin,” he told her, and he pulled a prescription bottle out of his pocket. “This is the good stuff. They prescribed it to me because of my gunshot wound.” 

“The ‘good stuff’?” Alice demanded. “Care to elaborate?” She took her gaze off Fred for a moment to level a glare into the car, directed at Kevin and Fangs. “Surely you’re not talking about opiates?” 

“So what if I am?” Fred questioned. “I was shot, Alice. Don’t you remember?” 

Alice sighed. “I am fully aware of what happened to you, Fred. I don’t want to take an  _ opiate _ for a simple tension headache.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

“How much do I owe you, Fred?” 

Frankly, Alice wanted to get her useless oaf of a neighbor off and away from her property before either FP or Tom showed up, partly because she’d have demanded that they arrested him, and partly because Alice wanted FP nowhere  _ near _ Fred and his new collection of opiates. Being an alcoholic was all fine and good: Alice could deal with  _ that _ aspect of FP. She just didn’t think that him getting addicted to opiates was anything resembling a good idea. 

Fred murmured a number, and Alice wrote him a check for the amount, not uttering another word. She hoped that her gaze -- filled with judgment cloaked as concern -- spoke for itself. 

The idiots next door could be dealt with later. Alice had more pertinent problems to deal with, mainly the two fools that she had saved from both a cult and donating their organs in an unsanitary environment. 

“You want me to stick around?” Fred asked. 

“That won’t be needed, Fred. FP and Tom are coming over.”

“We could all hang out--”

“I don’t think so, Fred. Goodbye now. Don’t you have Archibald at home to inflict your terrible parenting on? Don’t involve yourself with these potentially decent members of society.” 

Fred glanced at the backseat of her car again before he took stock of the look on her face and took his leave, and Alice wrenched the door of the car open with a scowl. “What was that about?” Fangs dared to ask. “Did he want more fizzle rocks?” 

“What?” Alice demanded. “Are you talking about? That’s Fred Andrews.”

“I know,” he said, nodding eagerly. “He’s one of my clients.” 

Alice drew in a deep breath. The last thing anyone needed was for the lecture that she felt building to cause everyone on the street to stare at her, and sell stories about how the Black Hood’s near-victim had snapped on two teenagers and the moron who lived next door. 

“Get out of the car, and into my house,” she told him. “You too, Kevin.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Kevin snapped. 

“Do as I say, Keller,” she hissed. “House. Now.” 

Fangs had heeded Alice’s directive, having climbed out of the car and practically bounced up the stairs to her front door. “Come on, Kev,” he said, his tone encouraging. “Northsiders have cable, and they have food in the fridge! Maybe Betty’s mom will feed us!”

Kevin grumbled, but he slouched his way out of the car and managed to join Fangs with minimal complaint. Alice took a moment to light a cigarette, before she unlocked the door and beckoned them into the house. 

“I’ve contacted your father,” she informed Kevin, the exasperation she had felt throughout the entire day in increasing capacity coloring her tone. “He’s on his way.” She turned to the Fogarty boy. “I’ve told FP to meet us here. I know he’s not your leader anymore, but I refuse to put your general well-being in the hands of Jughead.” 

Alice had standards. They included not becoming FBI informants for estranged children she barely knew, not taking questionable drugs from Fred Andrews of all people, and not allowing teenage morons to handle gangs and being in charge of them. Just because other people in Riverdale had allowed their standards lapse while she had been under the influence of that cult did not mean that she wasn’t going to insist on a return to standards. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked, and she directed the question at Fangs. “Have you eaten today?” 

“We didn’t have enough food,” he told her, and he jammed his hands in his pockets. “My mom’s sick. I don’t have a dad in the picture. There’s a lot of us to feed.” 

“I’ll make you something to eat,” she told him. 

“What about me?” Kevin demanded. 

Alice sighed. “You have food at home, Kevin.”

“So? You stopped me and Fangs from finding salvation!”

“You hoodwinked the sole provider of a family into joining a cult, Kevin, instead of, yet again, providing help to him.” 

“What do you mean, ‘yet again’?” 

“I know about what you did with those boys at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy,” she informed him. “About how you coerced them into hooking up with you at Fox Forest when they probably knew who you were, and, more importantly, who your father was, and were probably hoping that you would mention the  _ illegal _ conversion therapy in there to him?”

“You sent Betty there--”   
  


“Was I supposed to send her to the Farm with me?” Alice demanded. “I sent Elizabeth there because I thought it was the safer of two terrible options, mainly because I didn’t want Polly to get her claws in her.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear your voice, Kevin.”

“What?”   
  


“Don’t be obtuse,” she hissed. “You heard me.” 

“You didn’t say that to Fangs!”

Alice let out a sigh. “Fangs hasn’t been infuriating me since we encountered each other,” she told him. “From what I can see, his only crimes are being from a destitute area and having the misfortune to be hoodwinked into behaving in disappointed manners by Northsiders who really don’t have his best interests at heart.” She made a noise of disapproval. “You can watch television, Fangs,” she added. “I’ll get you sorted with a proper meal.” 

* * *

  
  
  


“Are you really dating her?” Jellybean demanded from the passenger’s seat, and FP glanced over at her for a moment, before returning his gaze to the road. “Mrs. Cooper?” 

“What are you talking about?” He asked her. “What makes you think that Alice and I are dating?” 

“Uncle Fred told me,” she informed him. “When you two came up to get Archie and Jughead.”

“Did Uncle Fred?” FP tried to purposely keep his tone light, though he was gripping the steering wheel with slightly more force than needed. “Why would Uncle Fred do such a thing?” 

“I dunno,” Jellybean said in response. “I don’t care if you are. Mom told me that she couldn’t stand you.”

“I don’t know if we’re dating or not,” FP said after a moment, rather reluctant to discuss this topic of conversation with Jellybean, and rather annoyed with good old Fred for having mentioned it was a conversational topic to be had to his  _ eleven _ year old in the first place. “We’re friends, Jellybean, that’s all.” 

“Friends who kiss?” She asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Uncle Fred said he  _ saw _ the two of you.” 

“Uncle Fred is a blabbermouth,” he said with a sigh. “Look, whatever, yes, we’ve kissed,” he admitted. “But we’re taking it slow. Neither of us is ready for anything overly serious right now.” 

“Because of Mr. Cooper?” 

“How do you know about that?” He really was afraid to ask, but what choice did he have? “Uncle Fred?” 

She shook her head. “No, not him,” she said. “Mom told me. She said it was ‘disappointing that he didn’t handle the real problem’,” she reported. “I think that she was talking about you. That’s why I told the dude from the Feds what she said.” 

FP sighed. “Well, that’s your mother for you,” he said. “I’m sorry that she said that to you. It wasn’t very appropriate for her to.” 

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “Do you think that she’s going to like me?”

“Who? Alice?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “I hope that she does. I don’t want to annoy her, or anything.”

FP chuckled. “I think she enjoys it, a bit,” he admitted. “Gives her a purpose of some sort.” He pulled his truck into the driveway and parked it beside Alice’s, not caring what people thought of him doing so. Clearly her neighbors were already forming their own opinions on them and their relationship -- he may as well have given them something to talk about. “Come on, Jelly,” he said. “We’re here.” 

“Am I allowed to come in?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course you are.” 

FP was sure that Alice would be more upset with him if he left Jellybean in the car than if he allowed her to come with him into the house, and he was sure that she wouldn’t mind Jellybean’s presence in her home, given that she’d always tolerated her and Jughead when they were younger, before Gladys had stolen Jellybean out from under him. Sure, the farm had been making Alice act...questionable, lately, he supposed, but she had come around to Betty’s point of view that being drowned meant that it was in her best interests to leave the farm, rather than insist on staying.

“It’s okay, Jelly,” he told her. “Alice won’t be mad that you’re here. She’s not your mother.” 

“She won’t make me run drugs for her?”

“No,” FP said, his tone firm. “My God, Jelly. No one is going to make you do that ever again.”   
  


“Do I have to keep wearing the jacket?” 

“No. Not if you don’t want to,” he said, as he rang the doorbell. “Maybe Betty has a coat you can wear, or something, until we can go shopping and get you a new one.” 

The door swung open and it revealed a harried looking Alice, still clad in the flannel shirt that she’d borrowed from him earlier that day, the pack of cigarettes that he’d lost earlier in her free hand. “I thought you were Tom,” she said with a sigh. “Come in. Fangs is watching TV.” 

“I thought you said Fangs was causing trouble?” Jellybean questioned him. 

“I thought that he was,” he told her. “Do you mind if Jellybean comes in with me?” 

Alice glanced over at her, and she nodded. “She needs to stay away from the Keller boy.”

“What?” FP asked. “What did Keller’s kid do?” 

Alice scowled. “What didn’t he do?” 

“Do you have a record player?” Jellybean asked. “Can I play some records?” 

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “It’s downstairs. In the...we have an apartment down there. Go.” 

Jellybean took the escape route that she was given, and FP gave Alice a worried look. “Al--”

“I don’t care that she wants to listen to records,” she told him. “She can go down there. I’m told that I redecorated.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t aware that she was coming home. You never said that Gl--”   
  


“Just Jellybean,” he said, wanting to assure her. “I filed for divorce after Fred and I went to get Jug and Archie. Gladys got arrested for something involving the Feds, and Jellybean’s ever so wonderful grandparents sent her back home to Riverdale, all on her own.” He sighed. “Your neighbor’s been running his mouth again, you know that?” 

Alice rolled her eyes. “Frederick?” He nodded. “What’s he been saying?” 

“He told my daughter that we’re dating,” he informed her. “I told her that she didn’t need to listen to everything that he said, that we were taking things slowly. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“Is it? The wrong idea?” Alice asked. “I mean, maybe we should admit that we’ve gone from a casual hookup here and there to something more?”

“I mean, yeah, if that’s what you want,” he said. “I know that you didn’t, before. I want to be with you, Alice,” he added. “I just don’t think Fred should be spying on us, and feeding that information to my child.” 

“I don’t disagree,” she said with a sigh. “I merely fear that might be the least of his problems, given that Fangs has positively identified him as a Northsider to whom he deals drugs to, and given that Fred himself saw absolutely nothing wrong with offering me a handful of opiates to dull the headache that the debacle of the day has given me.” FP couldn’t help but gape. She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I decided I would do without developing a drug addiction on top of the other million issues I have.”

“Fred’s back on opiates?” 

“Pray tell?” 

“That’s one of the reasons he froze me out,” FP told her. “He got caught with Frank and charged with OUI. Frank was family, he said, and Mary said that he could keep one of us in his life, but the other had to go, and she definitely believed that I was the one who got them both into opiates.” He wrinkled his nose. “I had nothing to do with that shit. I was a drunk. I didn’t do drugs.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kevin and I could get it back!” Fangs chimed in, and Alice stared at him. “What? We could!”

Alice was not a fan of the turn the conversation had taken, and she pressed a hand to her temple. She was getting a headache. It had been bad enough when she had viewed Fred as her irritating neighbor who lived next door to her -- and couldn’t identify his own next door neighbor as the man who shot him! -- while she had viewed FP as a no-good loser from the wrong side of the tracks who hadn’t managed to have the sense to clean up enough to not screw up the chance he’d had to make himself somewhat resembling legitimate. Now to find out that Mary Andrews -- a woman whom Alice loathed beyond all reasonable measure -- was behind the debacle that she’d spent  _ years _ blaming on FP? The word of the day was unamused.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m going to pour myself a glass of wine.” 

She headed over to the cabinet where she kept the liquor, and she wrinkled her nose. Harold may have been a serial killer and an abusive husband and father, but he’d had expensive taste in liquor, and Alice had had the foresight to hold on to it despite the whole ‘being in a cult’ thing. So where the hell had it gone? 

“I’m going to strangle him,” Alice said after a moment, having unearthed a bottle of wine. “Would you care to explain to me where my liquor has gone, FP?” 

“I don’t drink anymore,” he said, his tone impressively earnest. “I didn’t take it.” 

“I know,” she muttered. “I think that the blame lies on your idiot friend, whom we’ve established was in my house with his idiot cronies debugging it while I was dealing with some unsavory business at the Farm.” She pursed her lips. “Did he think I wouldn’t notice?”

Alice was tired. She took a sip of her wine. “I’ll claim it on the insurance,” she decided. “It’s been a truly awful day,” she said. “I don’t exactly want to add confronting my neighbor for stealing my ex-husband’s liquor to my to-do list.” She sighed.

“Kevin and I could get it back!” Fangs chimed in, and Alice stared at him. “What? We could!”

“Do you think that I am letting you and that Keller boy do anything after you two almost joined an organ stealing cult?” Alice exploded, unable to stop herself from expressing inappropriate levels of rage. “Are you out of your mind? I am not letting you step foot in Fred Andrews’ house,” she informed him. “Fangs, have a tiny bit of self preservation and recognize that Fred being one of your clients is a terrible situation that you should  _ not _ be trying to invoke here, or ever. I recognize that he looks like a simpleton who just needs a fix and that you think that he’s your ‘in’ on the Northside, or whatever, but he’s wearing that mask to fool you. I’m sure that he’s just waiting to turn you in to the Sheriff, the Feds, or that horrible woman that he’s still married to.” She wagged a finger in his face. “Have you met Mary, Fangs? Archibald’s classist of a mother?” 

Fangs looked confused. After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t think so, Mrs. Cooper.” 

“Mary decided that it would be appropriate to pretend to be FP’s lawyer and convinced him that his best bet was to plead guilty on the numerous trumped up charges that Tom Keller and his minions shoved on him because they didn’t want to charge the Blossoms in their son’s death,” she informed him. “Why? I don’t know. She also spoke to the Social Worker about not allowing Jughead to stay in ‘her’ home,” she added. “Did you know that, FP? How Mary pretended that she was concerned about how Fred’s OUI would affect the placement but was  _ mainly _ concerned with the fact that FP Jones’s son was going to be  _ her _ foster child?” 

“I didn’t know that,” he muttered. Alice saw his fists clench. “Fred told me that he’d tried, but that it hadn’t worked out. He’s my  _ friend _ , Alice.”    
  


“Is he?” She questioned. “Or is he someone who was once your friend who would be better off as a memory?”

“What do you mean by that?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, well, FP, he did fire you from the company that  _ you _ bailed out of fiscal insolvency after you left the Army,” she reminded him. “Then he proceded to fire you instead of telling Mary to get bent, or ditching that  _ useless _ waste of space that he calls a brother.” She took a sip of wine. “He didn’t even show up when he was shot.” 

“Frank?” She nodded. “Why the hell would he? I’m honestly  _ surprised  _ that he wasn’t the one to shoot Fred. I heard he’s become a mercenary.” 

She bit back a sigh. “How wonderful.” She shook her head. “Then we find out that he’s not only developed an addiction to opiates, he’s also allowing Fangs to deal him fizzle rocks and god only knows what else.” She sighed. “You are aware that is the  _ exact _ opposite of a good thing, right? The dealing drugs is one thing. I don’t care so much about that. I just don’t think he should be dealing to Fred.”

“You think Fred’s up to something?” 

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious that he punched Hiram Lodge during his son’s sham of a trial and didn’t even get a slap on the wrist?” 

“I, uh, I never thought about that,” he admitted. “That does seem weird.” He sighed. “The whole thing pissed me off because he shouldn’t have gone to jail in the first place.” 

“Oh, not for that,” she agreed. “There are plenty of things that he’s done that are worthy of jail time. It’s a shame that many of them implicate Hiram and Hermione, because lord knows I might have actually supported him getting in trouble for the  _ numerous _ things that he’s done wrong.” She sighed. “Instead, we had to deal with watching Archibald be framed for murder, of all things.” She rolled her eyes. “As if he’d have ever been able to keep that a secret.” 

She forced herself to stop her tirade on the many sins of Archibald Andrews, and reminded herself that she had called FP and the still-missing Tom Keller over for a reason, and it wasn’t to hammer home how little she trusted Fred and how little she liked Archibald. 

“I didn’t bring you here to discuss my issues with the morons next door,” she told him. “I brought you here to discuss the fact that Kevin has hoodwinked your moron of a Serpent into joining a cult, and he sees  _ nothing _ wrong with that.” 

“Wait -- what?”

“You heard me,” Alice said with a sigh. “When I was leaving the Farm with all of my belongings, I discovered these two in the parking lot discussing how they were going to give up their kidneys to Evelyn Evernever, and Fangs made it  _ very _ clear he had little grasp on what he was being asked to do, and an even more concerning lack of a grasp on reality.” She shook her head. “He had been lead to believe that committing such insanity would lead to being able to see the Klump girl again.“

FP’s brows rose to a height that impressed even her. “How would  _ that _ have happened?”

“I couldn’t get a straight answer out of either of them,” she said, her exhaustion evident in her tone. “It was an unfortunate experience retrieving my things anyways.” 

“What? Why? Was Polly rude to you?”

She shook her head. “No, not Polly,” she said. “It’s not anything you need to worry about. I’ll tell you later.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told him no,” she continued. “How dare he come to me with DNA tests and expect me to drop everything to help him? Do you have any idea why I told him to go away when he came to see me that day? I turned him away because I had no choice. Hal was so angry at me because I told him that I didn’t want to give him a son, and then our son just showed up at the door and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was covered in bruises. He knew what Hal had been doing to me.” 

Tom Keller had come and gone, dragging Kevin with him by the ear, and Fangs had fallen asleep sprawled out on Alice’s couch. FP had considered waking him up and forcing him to go home, but he had thought better of it when he realized that the boy had to be tired -- the movie that was playing on the television was rather loud, and Fangs hadn’t even opened his eyes once. He’d decided to let him be. If Alice didn’t mind, what did he care? Jellybean had accepted the plate of food that Alice had prepared for her, but she hadn’t emerged from the Coopers’ basement. The sound of whatever records she had scrounged up that suited her could be heard through the closed door. 

“What happened today?” FP forced himself to ask, as he took in the state of Alice’s kitchen table. 

The table was littered with the remnants of the meal that she had served, and there was an ashtray that was filled with cigarette butts, the crumpled up remnants of a pack of menthols beside them. Alice had managed to drink the majority of a bottle of wine, and the only reason that she had stopped was because he had corked it for her. Her laptop computer was in front of her, and she seemed intently focused on whatever was on the screen. 

He sat down in the chair closest to her. “Whatever happened, Al, you can tell me, you know? I won’t get mad.” 

“I’m reporting someone to the FBI,” she said after a moment of silence, as she lit up another cigarette. She glanced up at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you. I just…” She shook her head. “I can’t let this slide. What he asked of me was beyond inappropriate.” 

“You mean, besides wanting you to drown yourself for the sake of rebirth?” 

He assumed that they were talking about Edgar Evernever. Who else would they have been talking about? 

Alice shook her head. “I’m not talking about Edgar,” she told him. “I don’t care what he does. He can marry Polly and take those terribly named children in as his own, for all I care.” She pursed her lips. “Where’s Jellybean?” 

“She’s downstairs,” he told her. “Listening to records. Why? Do you want her to come up?” 

“No,” she said. “I don’t want her to know about this. I don’t want any of the kids to know about this. I wouldn’t even be telling you if we hadn’t promised that we wouldn’t lie to each other anymore. No more secrets, no more lies, do you remember, FP?” 

“Yeah, I remember,” he assured her. “If you don’t feel comfortable telling me it, though, whatever it is, I’d understand.” 

“I thought about that,” she admitted. “I can’t, though. You’re the Sheriff. What if he figured out who you were? What if he came to you after I refused to help him?” She drew in a breath. “The person who upset me as I was leaving the farm? Do you really want to know who that was?” 

“Yeah, I want to know.” FP had never been the greatest partner. Not to Alice when they were teens, and certainly not to Gladys when they’d been together, but he was determined that he was going to do right by Alice the second time around. It was what she deserved. She deserved everything. “Whatever happened, Al. It’s not going to upset me--”   
  


“I was leaving the farm when some suited men showed up,” she said, her tone clipped. “They told me that they had a proposition for me, and suggested that I would enjoy becoming a paid informant for the Feds. I told them that I wasn’t interested, that I wanted nothing more to do with the farm, and they said that they thought that I might say that, so they brought someone with them to ‘help me change my mind’.” She took a drag of the cigarette. “It appears that somehow our child is still alive, and that he has decided in his infinite wisdom that it would be in any way appropriate to manipulate me into infiltrating a  _ cult _ on his behalf.”

FP blinked. “Charles--”

“I told him no,” she continued. “How dare he come to me with DNA tests and expect me to drop everything to help him? Do you have any idea why I told him to go away when he came to see me that day? I turned him away because I had no choice. Hal was so  _ angry  _ at me because I told him that I didn’t want to give him a son, and then  _ our _ son just showed up at the door and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was covered in bruises. He  _ knew _ what Hal had been doing to me.” 

“I don’t blame you for telling him no, Alice,” he said. “It wasn’t appropriate of him to ask for your help.” 

“He painted me as some type of evil person because what? I offered to write him a check? So he goes and he tells that  _ boyfriend _ of his about his horror of a biological mother who ‘sent him away’, and Chic and his idiot friends almost kill Elizabeth and myself, not to mention what Chic got all of  _ us _ involved in.” She shook her head. “I’m done being told what to do by idiot men who think that they can control me. I don’t care if reporting him to the FBI gets him into trouble. He was out of line.” 

“It doesn’t make any sense, anyways,” he told her. “How the hell could you be an informant for them. You’ve been banished.” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t care to ask. I just didn’t want to lie about what happened today. I’m tired of lying. Tired of having to do things that I don’t want to do because they’re what’s best for me, or because I want to keep the peace with someone who can barely stand me, and I’m not going to do it for someone that I barely even know.” 

“I understand,” he said softly, and he moved the chair closer to her, taking her hand in his. “I don’t care what he wanted from you. If he wanted you just to use you for some fucked up informant thing, why the hell would I want you to do that? I mean--”

“I know what you meant,” she whispered. “I just...I thought that he’d want me to be his mom. I know it’s stupid, FP, but I really thought that he’d still want me to be his mom if I ever saw him again, and it’s like I’m nothing to him but an easy way in to a place that I never should have been involved with in the first place! They almost killed me! If Elizabeth hadn’t showed up I would have died, and Polly was the one who held me down. What incentive is that? Stay in the cult to try to rescue your daughter who tried to kill you?” She glanced up at him, tears visible in her eyes. “I’m so tired of always being the person who rescues people. The person who has to do  _ everything _ for everyone else. I know that it’s what I’m good for, but I really...you should have seen the look on his face when I told him no.” 

“Why?” FP asked. “Who did he look like?” 

“He looked like Harold. He sounded like him, too. If I wanted to deal with Harold, I would go visit him in the county jail.”


End file.
